I smirk, still half-dazed. “Get on the bed, wife. My turn.”
I stand there for a second, chest heaving, trying to gather the pieces of my fucking soul she just scattered across the floor with that mouth. She giggles and crawls onto the bed, stretching out flat on her back like she’s offering herself up to a god she already knows owns her.
I strip my shirt off slow, letting her watch. The way her eyes drag over my chest, down the lines of my abs, lingering on the deep V that disappears into my sweats… yeah, she’s not hiding how much she wants me anymore. That alone makes my cock throb harder than it has any right to after she just drained me.
She moves her arm to the nightstand, and picks up her camera, the one I gave her. She snaps two pictures and bites her lips. “You look so hot.” She whispers.
I stalk to the foot of the bed, hook my fingers in the waistband of her leggings, and peel them down her legs inch by inch. Black lace panties underneath, tiny, delicate, already soaked through. I smirk. “Nice panties, wife.”
She wiggles her brows, cheeks pink but eyes dancing. That confidence, the way she’s finally letting herself be bold with me when we’re naked, hits me harder than any punch I’ve ever taken. She’s starting to believe she’s safe. Starting to believe she’s mine in every way that matters.
I drop to my knees, drag that lace down her thighs, and toss it somewhere behind me. Her legs fall open on their own, thighs trembling just a little. I spread her wider, settled between them, and finally let myself look.
Christ. Pink, slick, swollen for me. I lean in and drag my tongue up her centre in one slow, filthy stripe.
She whimpers, her whole body jerking like I shocked her.
“Fuck,” I growl against her, voice rough, “you taste like every sin I shouldn’t want but will kill to keep.” I blow a cool stream of air over her clit and watch goosebumps race across her skin. “Never getting enough of this perfect pussy, Autumn. Never.”
I bury my face. No teasing now. I lick her like I’m starving, because I am, swirling around her clit, sucking it between my lips, swallowing every drop she gives me. Her fingers twist hard in my hair, my back bowing off the mattress.
“It feels so good, baby,” she gasps.
Baby.
The word punches straight through my chest. I smile against her cunt, slide one thick finger inside, and groan at how tight she clamps down. Soaked velvet. I curl it, stroke that spot that makes her sob, then pull out and replace my finger with my tongue. I fuck her with it slow and deep while she writhes, thighs shaking around my ears.
Thank fuck for Declan’s soundproof rooms. If any other man ever heard the way she moans my name, high, broken, desperate, I’d put a bullet in him without blinking.
“That’s it, trouble,” I rasp, adding a second finger, stretching her open while I lash her clit with quick, ruthless flicks. “Come all over my face. Let me drink you down.”
Her grip turns brutal, nails scraping my scalp, and then she shatters. A sharp, muffled scream into her own palm as her pussy spasms around my fingers, flooding my tongue. I keep licking, keep pumping, drawing it out until her legs give out and she collapses, trembling, sweat-slick, gorgeous.
I crawl up her body, press a soft kiss to her parted lips so she can taste herself on me, and whisper against her mouth, “Good girl.”
We lie tangled together, her naked body pressed tight against mine, her warmth sinking into my skin like something I never earned but refuse to let go of.
“I need you to be strong tomorrow,” I whisper into her hair. She snuggles closer, fitting against me perfectly like she was carved to sleep in my arms and nowhere else.
“I will,” she says softly. “Don’t worry about me.”
She looks up at me, eyes shining with tears she’s trying to swallow. I lean down and kiss her eyelids, tasting the salt as it slips free.
“I’ll always worry about you, trouble.” I kiss her forehead, my grip tightening. “You’re the only fucking thing that matters to me.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Flynn
We stay in bed until the middle of the afternoon. Declan sends breakfast upstairs, and we eat it tangled in the sheets, pretending for a few hours that today isn’t the day everything breaks.
Later will be the hit or the reveal.
We either come out of this knowing who the fuck is betraying us… or we don’t come out at all.
There’s no in-between.
I take a long, scalding shower. The heat burns across my skin like it’s stripping away old sins just to make room for the new ones I’m about to earn.
